


saving all my summers for you

by bastardly_deeds



Series: what's new, pussycat? [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Bondage, Catboys & Catgirls, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nonnies Made Me Do It, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23631802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastardly_deeds/pseuds/bastardly_deeds
Summary: Richie goes over to Eddie's house planning to rescue him from being put under house arrest by his mom. That isn't really the kind of help Eddie wants, as it turns out.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: what's new, pussycat? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727203
Comments: 4
Kudos: 130





	saving all my summers for you

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written anything involving catboys (or catpeople of any gender, for that matter) or werewolves before. I picked up the term "shifter" from a few blogs I follow that sometimes post about romance novels; I hope you'll forgive me if I got the tropes wrong, given my lack of experience with them. 
> 
> Characters are ambiguously teenage in this. I was thinking at least high school age, mentions of Bowers & Hockstetter notwithstanding. (The Losers in this continuity probably have enough weird miserable stuff going on for them without a shapeshifting clown alien, anyway.)
> 
> More extensive warnings in endnote.

Richie's first thought, when he looks in Eddie's room, is that Mrs. K must have finally snapped. There's no other explanation for why Eddie would be _tied to his bed_ like something out of a horror movie from the 1970s. And not a classy one, like _The Exorcist_ , either — one of the really trashy ones. He looks too suggestive curled up like that, wrists together against the headboard, knees drawn up. Which isn't an objectively sexy position, so maybe it's Richie's crush talking.

Mrs. K isn't the most stable at the best of times. She's found reasons to hate just about everyone, but all of Eddie's friends in particular. She's suspicious of shifters, so that's Richie, Bill, Ben, and Bev covered. (He thought maybe Bev would get a pass because she's a feline shifter, and Sonia and Eddie are both feline hybrids, but apparently that makes it worse somehow?) And Stan and Mike are hybrids like the Kaspbraks, and moreover extremely respectful and well-behaved around adults, so they should be ideal friends for Eddie. Except for the fact that Stan's Jewish and Mike's black. So Mrs. K hates them, too. This is a step further than Richie's ever known her to go, though. Sure, she'll keep Eddie home if he so much as thinks about sneezing; she'll forbid him from seeing them, though Eddie never listens, and plays the good son well enough that she can't think badly of him for long. Something must have happened.

"What the hell did you do?" Richie says as he pushes up the window. Eddie turns to look at him, startled, and Richie stops dead. He's never seen Eddie's eyes like this. Not even when they sneak out to the Barrens in the summer and have campfires, and Eddie's pupils swell so he can see in the dark. "Holy shit."

"Richie," Eddie says — no, _moans_. "You've gotta get out of here, my mom's gonna kill you if she sees you." His voice is reedy, strained. Richie takes a couple of steps closer. Eddie shifts on the bed and his breath hitches.

"This is a rescue mission, Eds," Richie says. "I thought your mom just kept you home sick again, but this is like, serial killer shit."

"Richie, no," Eddie says, and Richie really wishes he'd stop saying his name in that tone of voice, because things are about to get pretty awkward if he keeps doing it. "I asked to stay home. She just — when I told her why, she overreacted."

"Uh, not to ask the obvious question, but why?" Richie says.

"Because I'm in heat, dumbass," Eddie says. And Richie thinks _oh, shit_. "At least you decided to check on me instead of Stan or Mike, they'd be losing their minds by now." Richie is, needless to say, also kind of losing his mind, but hybrid pheromones don't act as strongly on shifters, and vice versa. "You think I wanted to go to school like this? Bowers would have eaten me alive." It's possible that Bowers has kind of a weird thing about Eddie in the same way that Hockstetter has a weird thing about Richie, in terms of trying to get him to submit to his authority. Richie isn't sure if it's just a matter of trying to keep the most egregious outliers of their respective types in line at school, or if there's some kind of fucked-up attraction there, but it's bad news either way. Eddie's ears go flat against his head every time Bowers is around. Sometimes he actually hisses, which is usually followed by all of them having to run away pretty fast.

"Yeah, but like. Ropes? What the fuck?" Richie says. Eddie blushes furiously and his tail lashes against the sheets.

"To keep me from indulging my baser urges," Eddie says.

"Oh my god," Richie says, torn between horror and laughter. "This is to keep you from jerking off?"

"More like to keep me from trying to shove my entire hand inside myself and ending up with the world's most embarrassing explanation at the emergency room," Eddie says.

"Holy shit," Richie says again. Eddie's ears flatten back against his head and he curls in on himself even tighter, making another little helpless noise as he does.

"I know, I fucking _know_ , okay? It's gross, and shifters only have them once you're older and spending a lot of time with a fertile partner —" Eddie says.

"We were in the same health class," Richie reminds him. "I know."

"You made jokes about it then!" Eddie hisses, and Richie does feel a little bad about it now. "It's not fucking funny _living_ it, so either get the hell out of my room or." He stops short, breathing hard. His toes curl in the sheets. "Or get _in_ me so it doesn't hurt so much."

"Uh," Richie says, because his brain has temporarily lost the capacity to form words. He takes a few steps toward Eddie's bed. "You mean that?"

"I guess?" Eddie says. He licks his lips. He looks a little nervous now that Richie's not taking it as a joke. "I mean, yeah. My mom's been checking on me every couple hours, so you've got..." He glances at the clock on his nightstand. "Forty minutes, give or take." No fucking way Richie lasts forty minutes. He'll be lucky if he doesn't come before he can even get inside Eddie.

"Okay," Richie says. He fumbles with his belt buckle. "Okay, yeah, we're doing this."

"You don't have to," Eddie mumbles.

"If you don't want —" Richie starts, but Eddie shakes his head.

"I know it won't be good for you," Eddie says.

"This is a medical emergency," Richie says, shucking his pants and crawling across the bed in just his shirt, underwear, and socks. "Doctor Feelgood in the house, here to treat you right." Eddie smiles reluctantly, rolling his eyes. "Also, I'm hard enough to pound nails, dude, believe me when I say it's not a problem."

"Are you part hybrid?" Eddie says. Which is kind of a relief, because it means he thinks Richie isn't in love with him and is just doing this as a friend, but kind of sad, that he thinks that's the only way Richie could be into him, under the circumstances.

"Great-grandma, I think," Richie says, which is true, according to family lore. "Can I?" He reaches for the waistband of Eddie's pajama pants, and Eddie nods. Eddie uncurls enough for Richie to get them off his legs, and then he's just in his pajama shirt and briefs.

"Keep going," Eddie says. Richie peels his underwear down, and. Okay. Well, that's extremely hot and also disturbing.

"Did your mom put that in you?" Richie says. He doesn't touch Eddie's cock, hard and leaking, but he traces a finger around the base of the plug nestled between Eddie's cheeks. "It's not _hers_ , is it?"

"I didn't ask, but, um. I think it was my dad's?" Eddie cringes. Richie winces in sympathy, because having your dead dad's sex toy forced on you is a little too grim for Richie to joke about. "C'mon, take off your underwear, let's just do it." Richie doesn't have to be told twice. He does hesitate, once his underwear is off, though.

"I should untie you, right? This feels weird." What feels the most weird is stuff he definitely can't tell Eddie. The wolf part of his brain, which is mostly quiet when he's human-shaped, is starting to have opinions about the situation. Opinions like _keep him bound, turn him over on his knees, keep mounting him until he knows he's yours_. First of all, that definitely couldn't be good for Eddie's wrists. More importantly, though, he always gets a queasy feeling when the wolf's impulses mix sex and violence. It feels important to try to work against that.

"You won't be able to do the knots right again after," Eddie says. "She'll know."

"What, like I'm going to leave you here?" Richie says. "What's your mom gonna do to you when she realizes somebody fucked you, huh? Come on."

"She won't," Eddie says. "Once it's over, I'm sure she'll let me clean myself up. You just have to not get any jizz on my sheets or clothes. Unless you have condoms?" His voice is unmistakably hopeful. Richie shakes his head.

"Sorry," he says. "I figured this was just a standard jailbreak situation." Eddie's hand's curl into fists, twisting against his bonds, but he nods.

"I figured," Eddie says. "Okay, go ahead." The wolf still wants to take Eddie from behind, but the rest of Richie wants to see his face, try to make sure it's at least a non-terrible experience. Eddie's expressive. It should be easy to tell.

As it turns out, Eddie's also _loud_. He whines when Richie pulls the plug out, which is bad enough, but he starts to keen when Richie presses the tip of his cock to his hole. Richie pulls back.

"Shit, am I hurting you? Do we need lube?" he says anxiously. He's leaking precome like nobody's business — he usually does, it's always enough to jerk off with — but he'll need more than that, right? Eddie's entrance feels slick to the touch. It might be enough. He doesn't know.

"Richie, if you don't shut the fuck up and put your dick in me, I swear I'm going to rip it off and do it myself," Eddie hisses, ears flat again, and Richie's cock twitches. He'll file that away for later. For now, he presses in slowly. Eddie's keening turns to a wail and Richie claps a hand over his mouth. Eddie bites down, which hurts. He has sharp little incisors. Surprised, Richie thrusts in a little faster that he means to, and Eddie bucks his hips. Richie stops, starts to ease back, but Eddie clamps his legs around Richie's body and holds him there. Eddie squirms as Richie pushes forward again, like it's not happening fast enough. Like he wants it all. His body's hot, tight, and wet enough that Richie's no longer concerned about doing any damage. Carefully, he takes his hand off Eddie's mouth.

"You good?" Richie says.

"I'd be better if —" Eddie starts, but Richie bottoms out with a sharp thrust, and Eddie makes a sound like he's choking on his own spit. "Pretty good," Eddie amends. "Can you start slow? My, my body's telling me I need it hard and fast, to make up for lost time, but, um. I've never. So."

"Me either," Richie says. "Yeah. We'll. We'll start slow." He tries to stick to it: long, slow thrusts, gradually finding a rhythm. Eddie tries to keep quiet, biting his lip so hard Richie's afraid he'll break the skin. On impulse, Richie leans down and kisses him. Eddie just stares when he pulls back, dumbstruck. "You can bite my lip, if you need to," Richie says, feeling very accomplished for being able to say something halfway intelligible while balls-deep in his best friend. "You're bad off enough already."

"Shut the fuck up," Eddie says, but leans up as much as he can to peck Richie on the lips. "You can kiss me again, if you want. And go a little faster."

Richie tries to pace himself, because he feels like he could go off at any second, but Eddie starts squirming again and before he knows it he's going harder and faster than is probably smart, if he doesn't want to hurt Eddie. He's into it now, but what about tomorrow? Or whenever the fuck heats end? He should look over his old notes from that health class when he gets home, if he can find them.

"Are you getting _bigger_?" Eddie says. His voice cracks, incredulous.

"Oh, uh," Richie glances down. "It's the knot, I guess, I don't usually — I'm gonna get stuck inside you if I don't pull put soon, I think?"

"How long?" Eddie says. His gaze darts over to the clock on the nightstand.

"I don't know, ten, fifteen minutes? A little longer? That's cutting it too close, right, I didn't even check if the door was locked," Richie says. His hips are moving in frantic, shallow thrusts.

"I don't have a lock on my bedroom door," Eddie says quietly. Like he's ashamed. "And I don't think I can come without you inside me. Literally. Physiologically." He swallows thickly. "It was a good try, um. Nice of you to do."

"Fuck that," Richie says. "I'm getting you off if it's the last thing I do. It's a matter of honor now."

"It _will_ be the last thing you do if my mom catches you," Eddie says. "It's not worth it." Richie kisses him again, though it's not easy to do, giving it to Eddie hard and deep the way he seems to like best.

"Too bad you can't do anything about it," Richie says, and regrets it immediately. "Shit, I didn't mean —"

"Touch me, you idiot," Eddie moans.

Richie's been trying to hold himself up without putting his weight on Eddie, which seemed more important than touching Eddie's cock. Stupid, in retrospect. He tries to support his weight on one hand and jerk Eddie off with the other, which throws off his rhythm. Eddie's swiveling his hips to make up for it, but really that just adds to the general lack of coordination. None of which stops Richie's knot from swelling until he can't pull back out. It's an improvement, actually; he can devote more attention to Eddie's cock. He presses his hand back over Eddie's mouth because he's making these goddamn _sounds_ again. Eddie doesn't bite him this time; instead, he laps at Richie's hand with his tongue. His eyes drift closed. Richie's debating the merits of a joke about his lack of sexual prowess lulling Eddie to sleep when Eddie comes over his hand with a smothered whimper. Richie uncovers his mouth and Eddie rubs his face against his hand.

"Holy shit," Richie says. "Are you purring?"

"Tell anyone and you're dead," Eddie mumbles. Richie wipes his hand on his own shirt and tries to clean up the little bit that got on Eddie's pajama shirt, but it's mostly on the inside anyway. "Thanks, Rich. I mean it."

"I live to serve," Richie says, trying for British. Eddie makes a face.

"Okay, no accents while you're inside me, jackass," he says.

"So, uh, speaking of, what do we want to do about all the jizz I'm putting in you right now?" Richie says.

"Gross," Eddie says. Then: "I guess just put the plug back in as fast as you can and I'll deal with it later?" The wolf and Richie's conscious brain both agree that this is the best idea anyone has ever had, globally and historically. Outside, a car door slams.

"Oh, fuck," Richie breathes.

"Not my mom's car," Eddie says. "I don't have a lock on my door, remember? I've got this shit down to a science."

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for nonconsensual bondage and use of sex toys, generally invasive and messed-up family dynamics, consent issues inherent in the mating cycle trope, brief intrusive thoughts about sexual aggression, brief discussion of prejudice and racism.
> 
> Title from ["Froot" by Marina and the Diamonds](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BI_0HIz_4JY).


End file.
